


Give Me Attention

by Lailuva



Series: 101 Yoditos AU [15]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: 101 Yoditos AU, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Gen, teachable moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29450358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lailuva/pseuds/Lailuva
Summary: Being a single dad and balancing your attention between 101 children is one heck of a challenge.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin & the 101
Series: 101 Yoditos AU [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065464
Kudos: 29





	Give Me Attention

**Author's Note:**

> From an Anon's prompt, "Give me attention"

Yod’ika 55 held out his hands, and the marbles he was holding slowly started to float up into the air, then circle around and around each other.

“I knew you could do it!” Din didn’t have his helmet on, and he was glad his son could see his smile, especially when Yod’ika 55 returned it. “That’s amazing.”

“I did it!” Yod’ika 55 threw his hands up in triumph, the marbles scattering as he lost focus. Din deflected one from Yod’ika hovering by his knee and reached out to pat Yod’ika 55’s head. “You did so good, ad’ika. You should be proud.”

Yod’ika 55 beamed, leaping forward into Din’s arms for a hug, which Din happily obliged. “I told you that you would get it if you practiced,” Din said.

“I did it, Papa!” repeated Yod’ika 55. “I did it!”

“Jate, jate, ad’ika,” said Din. Yod’ika 55 beamed and went off to chase down his marbles. Din started to stand, but was stopped by Yod’ika tugging on his pants. “Dad, I want to show you my picture.”

“When it’s your turn, Yod’ika.” Din had started the system of the children taking turns getting his undivided attention both for his own sanity and because Omera had said that learning how to take turns was good for social development and age-appropriate for the children. Din wouldn’t have objected even if there was no benefit, truth be told. He was pretty sure the only times he wasn’t being eternally called over by his children was when he was asleep or when he managed to escape to the ’fresher.

“But Dad,” whined Yod’ika, but Din shook his head, not wanting to let his eldest build up steam or he would never stop. “A few of your brothers already asked to show me something. Wait your turn.”

“It’s my turn now, Daddy!” chirped Yod’ika 22. He held up a piece of paper with red and yellow crayon marks scribbled all across it. “I drew Boga Jr.”

The picture only resembled the varactyl in the colors used, but Din studied it carefully anyway and nodded at his son. “It looks just like her. She’ll like it.”

Yod’ika 22 laughed. “She’ll just try to eat it again. Can I put it on her house?”

“Of course.” The little shelter Kuiil had constructed was currently covered in artwork, which was fine because Boga Jr. rarely used it, preferring Din’s bed to her own. It had become a play area for the kids instead, though they liked to include the varactyl in their games.

“My turn, Buir!” said Yod’ika 63, standing by an impressive block structure.

“I’m still showing Daddy!” snapped Yod’ika 22. He held up the paper again. “Can I go put it on Boga Jr.’s house right now?”

Din considered, but the area was very safe, he had a whole perimeter of warning sensors, and Omera had advised him to encourage small acts of independence. That, and Boga Jr. was somewhere outside and wouldn’t let the kids wander off, and Yod’ika 22 was not one of the ones inclined to wandering anyway. “Take one of your brothers with you, and come right back, but yes.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Yod’ika 3, and the two held hands and toddled off.

“Dad,” said Yod’ika, patting urgently at Din’s knee again, “Dad, I want to show you my picture now.”

“Wait your turn!” said Yod’ika 5. “You always try to cut!”

“Be nice,” Din reminded him.

“You have to wait,” said Yod’ika 10. “It’s Yod’ika 63’s turn, then Yod’ika 32, then mine, then yours.”

“Your brother is right,” said Din, patting his eldest son’s head. “Wait your turn.” Yod’ika pulled away, now closer to Yod’ika 63.

“Buir! Buir, come see my blocks!” said Yod’ika 63, hopping up and down with excitement. “I made a space station!”

Din had scarcely turned around when Yod’ika thrust out a hand, and the block structure crumbled and Yod’ika 63 was knocked onto his bottom. Instantly, and loudly, Yod’ika 63 burst into tears.

 _“Yod’ika.”_ For once, Din’s voice came out sounding stern. “That is _not_ how you treat your brother.”

Yod’ika scowled defiantly at him.

Din scooped up Yod’ika 63. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said soothingly, rocking him close. As for his eldest, he scooped him up too, but carried him over to the basket in the corner that had been designated the Thinking Place and set him there. “You can stay here for a minute and think about how you are supposed to treat your vode.”

The noise level doubled as Yod’ika started wailing too.

Din forced himself to turn away, much as he didn’t want to, carrying Yod’ika 63 back to where his ruined block structure was. Omera had told him that rewarding negative behavior with excessive attention would only increase it, but Din had figured that out even before she confirmed it. All the children wanted Din’s attention and had difficulty waiting and Din was still teaching them. But Yod’ika went after Din’s attention like a nexu hunting prey, and didn’t much care who got in his way. Din wasn’t sure how to get it through his eldest’s head that his attention had to be shared.

Right now, though, Yod’ika 63 was the one who needed attention. “It’ll be all right,” Din told him, bouncing him a little and letting Yod’ika 63 wipe his face on Din’s shirt. “We can rebuild it.”

“I w-wanted t-to show it t-to you, Buir,” sobbed Yod’ika 63.

“Show me how you built it. We can make it again,” Din said, patting his back and reaching out for some of the blocks. “What’d you start with?”

“I can help too!” said Yod’ika 10, echoed by several of his brothers, including Yod’ika 22 and Yod’ika 3 as they returned from outside and rushed over. Suddenly there was a whole swarm of flapping green ears and helping hands; blocks flew through the air as the Yod’ike starting putting the tower back together. Yod’ika 63 sniffled, clinging to Din, but raised his hand and started adjusting the blocks as they stacked higher and higher.

Din glanced over at the corner. Yod’ika was sitting with his arms crossed, his tear-streaked face twisted in a miserable scowl. As soon as he saw Din looking, he started wailing again. Din turned away quickly, trying to tune out the miserable sound and the way it made his throat tighten.

The block structure was now rebuilt, the cluster of Yod’ike beaming proudly. Din scrambled to identify everything he wanted to praise. “It looks very good. Strong and sturdy. And it was kind of you to help your brother.”

Yod’ika 63 sniffled faintly, but scrubbed at his face with his sleeve and smiled. “Vor entye,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Let’s all play with it!” said Yod’ika 10, snatching up one of the plasticine figurines Omera had given them. His brothers agreed, Yod’ika 63 climbed off Din’s lap and jumped into play, and Din was able to stand and let them at it.

He glanced over at Yod’ika. He had stopped screaming again, and had his face pressed into the corner.

Yod’ika 10 and Yod’ika 32 were engaged in the block structure and were clearly not about to fuss about turns right now, so Din walked over to the Thinking Place and sat by his eldest. Yod’ika stubbornly pressed his face further into the corner.

“Yod’ika?” His eldest tried to scooch further into the corner. Din almost reached out but hesitated. “Yod’ika?” Din suppressed a sigh. It was so hard to know when to talk and when to give one of his children space. Doubly so when he knew he only had a minute before someone else was demanding his attention. “It’s your turn now,” Din said finally. “What’d you want to show me?”

Yod’ika leapt into his arms, crying, and Din held him close and patted his back. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Din repeated. He spent half his day saying that, it felt like sometimes.

“D-D-Dad,” wailed Yod’ika. “I just wanted to show you m-my picture…”

“I know,” said Din, still patting his son’s back and hiking him up higher so Yod’ika could wrap his arms around Din’s neck. “I know you did. But all your brothers want to show me things too.”

Yod’ika sniffled, burying his face in Din’s collarbone, but Din pulled him away just enough to gesture at all the other children playing in the room. “This is your aliit. Your vode.” Yod’ika was the best at Mando’a and always liked it when Din used the language with him, and his ears were perking up a little. “Mhi me’dinuir. We share with our vode. And that includes time and attention.”

Yod’ika said nothing, leaning against Din’s shoulder.

“You would be very upset if all your brothers tried to take their turn when it was yours,” Din reminded him, taking one of Yod’ika’s little hands in his own. “You would be upset, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes. Elek,” said Yod’ika grudgingly.

“Go apologize to your brother. Then you can show me your picture.”

Din held his breath, half-expecting another tantrum, but after a moment Yod’ika hopped out of his arms and toddled over to Yod’ika 63. Din watched, unable to hear the words, but Yod’ika 63 smiled at whatever Yod’ika said and pointed at the blocks. Yod’ika shook his head and rushed back over to Din. “I ’pologized, Dad.”

“Jate, ad’ika.” Din patted his eldest son’s head. “Now, what did you want to show me?”

Yod’ika clambered into his arms. “Will you carry me, Dad?”

“Of course.” Din felt Yod’ika’s claws dig into his shirt, but his ears went up when he was up high and the only one with Din’s attention right now, like they usually did. Yod’ika’s tantrums were difficult, but at least soothing them was always easy.

Din carried him over to the little art table he’d fashioned for the kids - a flat thick board with holes drilled into it as places to put supplies and set him down. Yod’ika toddled past his few brothers still there, waving their artwork at Din; Din told them he would look in a moment and returned his attention to his eldest as Yod’ika brought over a still-wet painting and held it up for Din to see.

“That’s you, isn’t it?” asked Din, pointing at a green blob with two vaguely ear-shaped blobs coming out of its sides.

Yod’ika beamed. “Yes! You can tell?”

“Of course,” said Din, determinedly not glancing at the drawing Yod’ika 6 was waving in the air, a much more distinct self-portrait. The children had been educated at the lab, trained in fine motor skills even if the Kaminoans hadn’t encouraged creativity like Din tried to, but the effects were obvious when Yod’ika tried to draw as well as his brothers. He’d been trapped in the pod for so long, never encouraged to use his fingers or given the opportunity to handle a pen, and he was smart enough to realize that he was behind the others almost his age, no matter how much Din tried to downplay it. “It looks just like you.”

Yod’ika grinned broadly. “And I drew you too!” He pointed at another blob, this one a mix of gray and brown, but with a vague T-shape in black over it all. “It’s both of us!”

“I thought I was looking at a mirror,” Din said, and Yod’ika laughed. “What are we doing?” asked Din.

“I dunno,” said Yod’ika, shrugging. “I just wanted to draw us together.”

Without thinking, Din pulled Yod’ika back onto his lap and hugged him close. _Children won’t say ‘Give me attention,’_ Omera had told him. _But they will find ways to ask._

“Mesh’la. It is a beautiful picture.” Din carefully helped his son hold it out so they wouldn’t be smeared with paint. “When it’s dry, can I hang it in my room?”

“Yes!” Yod’ika squealed in delight, jumping up to hug Din as best he could. “Elek! Elek!”

“Jate,” said Din, catching the painting before it smeared over his sleeve. “Are you done? Can I put it up to dry?”

“Yes!” said Yod’ika, and Din carefully held him as he stood and placed the painting to dry on the shelf that had been designated for that purpose. “Jate,” Din told him again, gently stroking one of the ears the way Yod’ika liked. The other children at the table were clamoring for him, and he turned to remind them to wait before returning his attention to his eldest. “Some of your vode want a turn to show me things now,” said Din. “You can go play, if you are going to be a good vod, or you can go back to the Thinking Place if you still need quiet.”

“I will be good, Dad.”

“Jate.” Din hugged him again, which Yod’ika returned before pulling himself up to press his forehead against Din’s. Din smiled, gently bumping their heads together before finally setting down his son and watching him hurry over to join his brothers at the blocks.

“Papa, look,” said someone at the art table. “I painted myself!”

 _Translation: give me attention,_ Din thought before turning around to deal with the next issue.

**Author's Note:**

> If this fic didn't tip you off, I'm a preschool teacher, and yes this is what a large portion of my day is like. Shoutout to my students for always inspiring me when I write for Yodito(s).


End file.
